Chapter 113

People began helping themselves to the food laid out on the nearby tables. The spread resembled an outdoor catering buffet, and everything looked delicious.

Outdoor engagement ceremonies weren’t exactly common, so the preparations had taken longer than expected. But as the saying goes, “Hunger is the best spice”—guests dug into even the now-cooled food with enthusiasm.

Just then, a clinking sound rang out from the other side—Lewin and Abyss were tapping their glasses with teaspoons to get everyone’s attention. Standing on a chair, Lewin scanned the crowd.

“Today is the engagement ceremony of my dearest friend Alessandro’s younger sister, Vivian Roha. It’s truly moving to see the engagement of the wild child I’ve known since we were young.”

Beside him, Abyss nodded along dramatically, playing up the moment.

“Many of you may think Vivian is a quiet and demure young lady, but in fact, she’s an incredibly entertaining person. And the first to recognize that was none other than Lord Armin—what a lucky man he is.”

The crowd applauded at their words, and the mood lightened. Standing beside me, Armin gently took my right hand. The feeling of the thin silver ring, which I hadn’t really noticed before, suddenly felt quite nice.

“In that spirit, I’d like to propose a toast. Duke Grey, would you do the honors?”

The unexpectedly called Duke Grey paused for a moment, then rose from his seat.

Now all eyes were on the Duke. As someone constantly at the center of noble society, he exuded effortless grace. His affectionate gaze turned to Armin and me.

Even his pause had the effect of pulling everyone’s focus. After a thoughtful beat, the Duke finally began to speak.

“Since the day I married, I’ve always had one wish. I wanted a beautiful daughter who looked just like my wife.”

The Duchess, seated beside him, flushed at his words.

“I was a bit disappointed when our first child turned out to be such a dull boy.”

Laughter erupted around the venue. Even Armin smiled at his father’s teasing.

“Perhaps God denied us more children so we could meet the lovely and clever daughter-in-law who resembles my wife.”

A burst of cheers and applause followed. This time, it was my face that turned red.

“My son’s greatest act of filial piety was bringing us this engagement. That Vivian has become part of our family.”

The noble ladies’ eyes turned toward me again—this time tinged with jealousy. The Duke had a reputation for being stern and intimidating, so it surprised many that he could express such warm affection.

“With a son lacking in conversation and a husband always too busy, my wife must have been quite lonely. I want to thank Vivian once more, for becoming not just a daughter-in-law but also my wife’s best friend.”

A thank-you from the Duke himself. Though the toast was becoming quite lengthy, no one dared to interrupt him.

“Even if I sound like a doting fool, so be it. But I’ll yield today’s toast to Vivian. Vivian?”

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“I’ll ask you to give the toast.”

The spotlight was back on me. My mind went completely blank after the Duke’s heartfelt speech. The word “toast” just kept spinning in my head.

‘I should’ve been to more parties.’

The word “toast” naturally pulled memories from my past life—those noisy company dinners, a beer bottle with a spoon jammed into it, and a boss giving a ridiculous toast.

Before I knew it, my mouth moved on its own.

“Th-then, for the toast… let’s go with ‘unexplained death!’”

Even as I saw people’s eyes widen in pure shock and horror, I didn’t immediately realize what I’d done wrong.

“U… unexplained death?!”

“Gasp—oh my! Of all things, why ‘unexplained death’ on such a lovely day?”

Faces around me turned pale as people glanced at one another in horror. Murmurs rose and soon turned into a wave of unsettled chatter.

“Toast… Is this not how it’s supposed to go?”

It was a toast I’d cobbled together based on those raucous drinking parties I’d only ever seen in dramas. But judging from everyone’s shocked reactions, I had clearly messed up.

Ah, I should’ve gone with something simple. In the middle of such a cheerful atmosphere, saying “unexplained death” was clearly a mistake. Regret hit me the moment the words left my mouth—but there was no taking them back now.

I forced myself to stay composed. If I stammered now, it would only become a bigger issue among the nobles.

Feigning innocence, as if I couldn’t understand why no one appreciated my sense of humor, I spoke up again cheerfully.

“Alright, everyone! Please give me the syllables for each character*!”

[*T/N: The words for unexplained death is 변사 사건. Which in romanization would be byeon-sa sa-jeon]

Everyone looked at me like they had no idea what strange thing I was about to do next—but they obliged.

“Byeon…?”

“Don’t change*—”

[*T/N: Byeon-ha-ji mal-go]

“Sa!”

“Let’s love—* (*saranghaja*) And then—!”

[*T/N: Sa-rang-ha-ja]

“Sa!”

“With the one we love—* (*saranghaneun saramgwa*)”

[*T/N: Sa-rang-ha-neun sa-ram-gwa]

“Jeon!”

“Let’s live healthily and happily! To all our esteemed guests at today’s engagement… may you all experience ‘Byeon-sa-sa-jeon’!”

[*T/N: Jeon-gang-ha-gye jal  sal-ja]

I downed my glass of champagne in one go. I probably looked like some old-fashioned middle-aged man, but I had no choice.

“Wahahaha! Wahahahahaha!”

Suddenly, boisterous laughter erupted from one of the tables.

“‘Unexplained death,’ huh? I’ve never heard a toast that clever before!”

It seemed my future father-in-law, Duke Grey, was absolutely delighted by my toast. In fact, the middle-aged nobles around him looked quite touched.

“I should try that next time.”

“You too? I was thinking the same thing. Listen, here’s another one I just thought of…”

“Oh-ho! That’s a good one. Want to hear mine?”

Their quiet chatter of excitement filled the air.

I had nearly branded myself a weirdo on my engagement day, but thankfully, I’d managed to turn things around. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, I returned to my seat.

“Unexplained death, huh?”

Armin teased with a smile. Beside him, Sasha joked that at this rate, a murder might happen at the wedding.

“That was actually really original, Vivian.”

Only Princess Florin came to my defense.

“Do you have any others?” she asked, saying she wanted to try one out with her family when she returned to Gellang.

I shared a few toasts I remembered from my previous life.

“‘Mind your own business.*’”

[T/N: Neo-na jal-hae]

“Vivian! You shouldn’t say that to Her Highness!”

“It means, ‘Let all our problems be solved peacefully between you and me*.’”

[T/N: Neo-wa na-ui mo-don mun-jae-ga jal hae-gyeol-dwil geo-ya]

“Oh my, how do you remember all these things, Vivian?”

“This is just the basics, really.”

We clinked our champagne glasses again and laughed together.

* * *

At a typical engagement ceremony, there would be a cake-cutting ritual. But at ours, something else had been prepared instead.

It was a fish. And not just any fish—this was a large one, comparable in size to tuna or croaker.

The fish was meant for a traditional ritual known as the “fish-cutting ceremony.” It was originally a wedding tradition, but since we ended up having the engagement first, the ceremony was moved up accordingly.

Of course, it wasn’t as though noblemen and women, who had no experience handling raw seafood, were expected to cut the fish themselves. A professional chef would handle the butchering, preparing fresh sashimi or grilled dishes for the guests. The key point of the ceremony, however, was the fish’s stomach.

“Ugh, the smell…”

I shuddered at the fishy stench from a distance. I hated the smell of raw seafood, and just seeing the fish being brought out was enough to make my skin crawl.

“A fish-cutting ceremony, really…”

Even as a tradition, it was considered outdated and often skipped in modern ceremonies. But both my mother and the Duchess had a soft spot for these old-fashioned rituals and found them oddly romantic.

With only one child in each family, they’d insisted—tearfully dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs—that this was their only chance to witness it. How could I possibly win against such theatrics?

Since this was the engagement of the duke’s heir, they had gone all out and brought in an impressively massive fish.

“Well, everyone seems to be enjoying it.”

“Especially the moms. Look at them—they’re glowing.”

The most important part of this ritual was the fish’s stomach. As with many ancient customs, there was a touch of superstition.

“What were the meanings again? I heard it and immediately forgot.”

“They said if a small fish is found inside, you’ll have gifted children. If it’s seaweed, it means you’ll live a long life.”

“Seriously? How does whatever this fish ate for breakfast have anything to do with my future?”

I grumbled, but inwardly, I was replaying all the things Mom and the Duchess had said.

A tiny fish, seaweed, and all sorts of other possibilities—whatever came out, it was a blessing. Like a lucky draw with no duds. Thinking of it as just a charming tradition made the smell slightly more bearable.

While we chatted, the chef’s hands moved expertly. With each sweep of the knife, thick chunks of fish flesh fell cleanly away. Maidservants moved in and out, collecting the pieces on silver trays.

At last, only the bones and head remained. The chef stepped aside, revealing the fully filleted fish. Now it was our turn.

The fish was so large that its stomach was proportionally massive as well. A gleaming, pristine pair of shears flashed in the chef’s hand.

Still making a face of disgust, I let Armin take my hand as he cut open the fish’s belly. It felt like opening some grotesque version of a lucky box. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the worst.

Under the sharp, honed shears, the fish’s stomach should have given way easily. But instead, something dull and solid struck back against the blades with a clink.

“Huh?”

The resistance was strong enough to make my fingers tingle.

Was there something inside this fish—among all the possible “lucky items”—that could withstand a chef’s shears? Armin and I exchanged confused looks and peered inside.

“Gasp!”

“Why is that in there…?”

Neither of us could say another word. It wasn’t a small fish. It wasn’t seaweed. It was something unexpected, but unmistakable. Something we recognized immediately—something we couldn’t not recognize.